


Chains of War (Temp Name)

by Storm_Sunset



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Death, F/M, Gen, M/M, Other, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28546548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storm_Sunset/pseuds/Storm_Sunset
Summary: (W.I.P! Everything is subject to change, including this summary)Gregory Torres is the captain of the guardsmen for a city in the year 3752. He loves his job and wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Or would he?Long ago, society collapsed due to a band of villagers and their war beasts, since the rebuilding of the Government pets and most work animals have been banned.Gregory is thrown into a war been a secret community who follow the ancient village traditions and the powerful Govern when his citizens began being slaughtered as a message.He had to find this terrorist and stop them before things get too out of hand. Can he and his detective find them? Or will the city lose more than just nobodies?
Kudos: 1





	Chains of War (Temp Name)

**Author's Note:**

> This is draft version 1.5 of chapter 1! It has undergone a spell check and clarification edit, but it's still in rough story version. 
> 
> Feedback appreciated!

#  Chapter One

A soft breeze blew through the city, pushing leaves across the empty road with a cool spring draft. The moon projected a peaceful white haze on the quiet city, casting shadows that stretched for attention. Night sounds filled the silent air, crickets sang and fires snapped inside braziers. 

It would’ve been a relaxing path to walk on if the lone man walking hadn't spent the last half year trying to catch a monster. A predator that lurks in shadows and preys on single targets, never leaving a witness alive. 

Gregory eyed the dark alleyways as he passed them, half expecting a cold steel snare to pull him into the shadows. Being a captain of the city's guard does not make one immune to fear. Fairy tales are based on reality, don't you know?

The street had buildings lining it, some looked new and cleaned, others looked abandoned and nearly rubble. He didn't walk too far, approaching a new looking apartment complex and entered through a gate with a broken hinge. Quiet metallic clacks echoed through the stairwell as he climbed the stairs, trying not to wake sleeping families at the ungodly hour. 

Reaching the top floor, the lone man approached a door, his keys silently unlocked it before he slid into the apartment. He locked the entrance and looked around the room, oddly the sweet smell of pears greeted him. It was an open kitchen-living room plan. Scattered around were paint cans, papers, dishes, and other clutter. 

"You're late," another man said.

Gregory looked at this man, he was standing facing away, in front of an easel. His hair was a messy past shoulder-length blonde, and he wore an old white shirt and worn jeans. Both stained with various paint splatters. 

"What can I say? Chasing monsters is  _ fun _ ," he replied, walking over to the painter.

"Monsters? There's more than one now?" 

"You know what I mean, Henry." He sighed, hugging the other from behind.

Henry gave an agreeing hum, tracing a paintbrush across a canvas, adding ambient lighting from what Gregory could tell. The toe danced around the painting's surface giving a new pop to some bricks. It was practically done, and as always was beautifully crafted. 

A moonlit stone brick wall with a sleek feminine shadow cast upon it lay on the canvas. The shadow had a chain in one hand and held the other in an inviting manner, while painted words dripped and ran down the bricks. The words were in an enticing lilac, and read "Understood Insanity".

"I see she's on your mind too," Gregory said.

The painter tilted his head, studying his work. "What'd you expect? She's keeping you busy, and it's all I can think of." 

He nodded in agreement. Being captain of the city guard meant any issues get filtered through him. And this criminal was a huge issue. Thievery, interference, murder, she was willing to do anything. 

His partner patted his hand, before putting the paintbrush down. "I'll let this sit, can't rush art."

"Honey, what compelled you to use purple?" 

Henry shrugged. "It felt balanced and right against the neutral stone and cool shadows. Why?"

His eyes fell onto the shadow in the painting. "We found a piece of purple fabric at the latest scene."

"Ah. Well, come on, I saved food for you. We can eat and get to bed, get your mind off her." 

"That's why I married you." He chuckled, letting the man go.

His husband had a smile on his face as he made a bowl of stew. Well, made as in poured leftovers into the container and warmed it over the fireplace. It was good, even reheated, vegetables and various meats in a thick gravy. 

After he ate and Henry told him about his day, they walked to their bedroom. Where Gregory explained his day. 

"It was really slow, until after lunch. Got a report of an assault, wasn't much. Then when we got back to the station, we got a report of a dead man found behind a shop," the captain said. 

The painter laid on his back, holding his arms out. “Is that where you found the cloth?” 

He joined his partner, resting his head on the other's chest. "Yeah. The poor man had it stuck on his fingers, as if he was grasping onto her shirt or something as he died."

"Maybe he did. Was he strangled?" 

Gregory shook his head. "He was mauled."

"Mauled? By what?" 

"Our best guess says a big cat or a bear." 

Silence filled the room for a long spell, with Henry brushing the captain's hair with his fingers.

"How do you know this death is connected to the others?" 

He sighed. "We don't. In fact, for all we know, this was a wild animal attack and he just had cloth in reach during the attack."

His husband wrapped his arms around him, embracing the tired captain in a welcoming hold. "You shouldn't be doing this alone."

"I know…"

"Maybe… Maybe you should ask the govern for help."

The captain stayed quiet, thinking to himself.  _ He's right, I should. But, will they even send anyone to help? It's one woman… That we know of anyway, oh gods I hope there's only one of them. _

"Get some sleep, honey. You can decide later."

He nodded. "Yeah, maybe tomorrow I'll ask the station what they think about getting help."

Henry smiled at him. "Sounds like a plan."

With a sharp squeal of hinges, Gregory entered the station. The bold building was made of bricks and old world steel, one of only a few structures that required little repairs after the wars. Though is unit wasn't the largest, and they were spread thin, they still crowded the small building. People compiled papers, files, and supplies or rushed around with reports. 

He walked through the busy place, towards a flight of stairs. A few officers greeted him, or otherwise acknowledged him, but most were too busy to notice. 

Upstairs was his and the detective's office. As big as the mainfloor, without all the extra people. In the center of the room, a large maple table lay, a mess of files an photos a top it. A similarly cluttered desk rested against the back wall, and several filled bookcases lined the rest of the walls. Hunched over the desk, a man mumbled about govern officials and logic. 

"Tom?" 

The man jumped, turning to look at him. He was a younger man, early to mid twenties with deep red undershaved short hair. His blue eyes searched the captain with a spark of excitement. His clean and wrinkled uniform gave the impression that the detective went home last night, but Gregory knew better.

"Greg! Oh thank the lords. Have I been busy, I think I have a promising lead this time!" 

He observed the table. "That right?" 

On the table lay several photographs, some older, others new. Unfortunately, they were all post-mortem photos from crime scenes. Most had purple and red bruises around their neck, though a few had torn skin and were missing a limb or two. 

"Yeah. We initially thought she was targeting married men." The detective paused, pointing to a woman's photo. "Until we found her. Then we realized that theory wasn't solid." 

Gregory nodded. "Right."

Tom tapped a pile of papers. "So then the next link was the fact that every murdered victim was married. Except, for the next man." Again, the man paused, this time pointing to a photo of a man. "Not married, didn't work for the govern or the city. Hell he wasn't even employed." 

"Get to the point, please." 

"That man you found yesterday, he offered a new theory. He had cloth with him. What if she's just ensuring she never had a witness? Even when not commiting crimes."

The captain rubbed the back of his neck in thought. "Are you suggesting… she has no motive? That she's just killing people who see her?" 

His detective nodded. 

"I hope not." He gritted his teeth. "If she's insane we aren't allowed traditional justice. She'll be put in a mental hospital." 

"We don't have any evidence to suggest otherwise, captain." Tom said.

Gregory straightened his shirt and sighed. "Either way this doesn't help us find her."

The other man nodded a solemn agreement.

"Captain!" a woman called from the stairs. "We just got word of a serious assault."

He waved for Tom to follow and hurried down the stairs. 

"Already?" The captain asked, being handed a rolled up piece paper. 

This report's ink was still moist, telling him it was fresh. It stated an assault was witnessed near the bank downtown, and from the details, it wasn't possible the victim survived. 

"This can't be her work, says there's a witness," he said. 

His detective grabbed a camera bag and a second shoulder bag, giving a shrug in response. 

"Well, won't know until we see the victim I suppose."Gregory handed the report back to the woman and headed out of the station. Being tailed by the other man as he headed down the street. 

"Shame the  _ cars _ are too expensive," Tom said, over enunciating the vowel in 'car'.

"Yeah, perhaps one day the city will give us one though. The horses take too long to raise and train." 

His detective laughed. "Perhaps." 

The pair fell silent after that, walking briskly down the cracked pavement. Although a larger city, rich it was not, and maintenance has suffered because of this. Weeds and grass thrived in cracks in the sidewalks and roads. Most of the buildings stood like undead beings, lifeless on the outside, yet functional on the inside. 

A few people walked on the sidewalks, heading to work or a store, though most citizens were still in the comfort of their homes. Despite this, the town felt lively with the few fellow early workers greeting the guards. 

They arrived at the bank after a half hour walk. Waiting on the sidewalk a well dressed man in a clean black suit stood. His greased hair was hanging in front of his face casting it in shadows, and he seemed nervous as the pair approached him.

"Captain Gregory! Thank goodness you're here, this lady, she won't leave!" 

Gregory gave an intrigued look. "We're here on a report of assault, sir. But if you're having issues with someone, we'd be happy to help."

"Assault? Oh no no, just an unruly woman." 

Tom seemed disappointed, pointing towards the building. "Care to show us the problem?" 

The teller led them inside and gestured towards a female standing in the middle of the room. The woman wore a faded and fitted blue sleeveless dress, her brown hair hung in messy shoulder-length curls. With hands holding the edges of the dress, fingers messing nervously with the fabric.

"Ma'am? Are you okay?" the captain asked, creeping towards her.

As he approached, he noticed scuffs along the woman's heels, her dress appeared to have a layer of soot or dirt on it and her face had soft black lines running down her cheeks.

The woman looked him up and down, before shrugging. Her eyes set in despair and agony.

He gave a soft reassuring smile. "What's wrong? How can I help you?" 

"Sh-... She…" she stammered, looking up at the ceiling, more importantly, the rafters. 

Tom observed the ceiling, then walked around. Looking for the usual evidence with Her murders or an assault. Only issue, the bank didn't have obvious signs of a murder or assault. No blood, scratches, dents or scuffs. 

"Who?" Gregory asked. "I'm Captain Gregory of the city. Let me help." 

The woman looked at him, even more nervous than the teller. "She  _ killed _ him." 

He looked at his detective, who gave him a small head shake and shrug.

"Killed who?" the captain asked.

She lifted her hand, pointing towards a door. But, the man in the suit lunged to stand in front of the door. 

"No! You can't! This is… uh, private property," the teller stammered.

Tom replied first, "Sir, if you do not move, you'll be detained for obstruction." 

A moment of thought crossed the man's face, before he bowed his head and stepped out of the way.

"You shouldn't be here. We shouldn't even have survived." 

Gregory exited through the door, with the detective following him. The door just led to an alleyway, nothing much to see. Each building's walls were darkened by soot and dirt, and the ground glistened with water.

A dumpster sat leaned against the bank, but other than that, there was nothing out here. Nothing he could see at first glance, that was. Towards the wall opposite of the door sat a few drops of red liquid.

Tom nudged his shoulder, pointing up at something, and the captain followed his gaze.

Suspended by a chain, a man hung limply from a broken fire escape. His eyes stared lifelessly forward while his body swayed in the gentle breeze. The cold steel wrapped tight around his neck, and blood dripped from his mouth and nose. Although, the man's face still retained color.

"Dear gods…" he muttered.

His detective cleared his throat and readied his camera. "This was definitely her work." 

Gregory nodded, silently agreeing. This never gets easier, seeing another human whose life was stolen away far too early, and often in a brutal fashion. He vaguely noticed his companion taking photos while he stood there in thought and light mourning. 

"Hey, boost me onto this fire crawl?" the other man asked.

He snapped to reality. "Yeah, of course." 

The captain locked his fingers and took his partner’s weight, lifting him up onto the intact fire escape across from the one the body hung from. Once done, he stood under the corpse to observe the small drops of blood on the ground. Some were already dried, while a few dark drops glistened. Though he wasn't a forensic officer, he knew from experience the body was fresh. 

"Odd… Didn't we get the report half an hour ago?" Tom asked.

"Yeah. What's odd?" 

"Well, this man hasn't been dead but a few minutes." The detective put his camera away and took out a short shepherd hook from his shoulder bag.

He watched his detective hook the chain and gently pull the body over to him. After laying it on the fire escape, Tom hit the chain until it fell from it's post.

Gregory helped lie the corpse down gently while his partner lowered it. Once on the ground, he could see his partner was right, the skin hadn't even begun paling. 

"How fresh would you say this one is?" the captain asked.

"No older than ten minutes, maybe fifteen, he's still soft." The detective made a point to lift the man's hand and let it drop on its own.

Although getting to a crime scene fast is what they strive to do, he couldn't help but wonder how convenient this was. Too convenient. Being called out to a serious assault only to find an eeriely fresh murder from the terrorist? Doesn't happen by accident, She wouldn't let it.

Paranoia set in, and the captain scanned the rooftops, fire escapes, and surrounding area. Now positive this was set up.

"Captain, please don't do that. You're making me nervous… Let me work without the pressure of an impending ambush." 

"Something's not right though. That report had wet ink, and this body is so fresh… We had to have been called here on purpose," Gregory said. 

Tom took the chain off the body, then seemed interested in the metal. "Hey, this isn't iron, or reworked steel." 

He picked up one of the ends, too light to be iron, yet too grey to be steel. As well as being an odd metal or alloy, the chain looked new and shiny, aside the blood splatters. 

"It's hers, no doubt about it." 

The other man pointed to the corpse's mouth. "The victim's neck marks match our collection. Though, he wasn't just strangled to death. Note the blood coming from his nose and mouth." 

"So he was attacked, then strung up like a pig?" 

"Seems like it." 

He sighed. This criminal was getting barbaric, she loved using blunt metal weapons, often chains, to immobilize her victims before either tearing them apart or hanging them for all to see. She was sending a message, even if the city couldn't read it. 

"I want to talk to the witnesses. Mainly that teller, he was on edge. Too nervous if you ask me," the captain said.

Tom nodded. "Go ahead, I'll be here doing my job."

He left the detective and headed back inside. The well dressed man stood behind the counter, writing out a form. 

"Excuse me, sir, care to answer some questions?" Gregory asked.

"Protocol I suppose. I can answer some questions, sure." 

The captain removed a notepad from his pocket and took a pencil from the counter. "We'll start easy, what's your name?"

"Viktor Graham."

"And reason for being at the location of a crime?" 

Viktor gave an offended gasp. "I work here!" 

He held up a hand. "Sir, I have to ask these questions. What did you witness?" 

The man went silent, his eyes traveling to the ceiling. 

"Viktor, what did you see?" 

"I didn't see anything… but I heard an ungodly noise, like a growl from a cat, only more… human," the teller said.

While it was protocol to ask witnesses these questions, he mainly wanted to see his demeanor and reactions.  _ He knows something, so does that woman… hey where is she?  _ He wondered, looking around the room momentarily.

"Who reported the assault?"

"What assault?" Viktor asked.

Gregory studied the teller. "You didn't know anything about the assault that was reported in this area?" 

The man straightened his tie, swallowing as he did. "No." 

His knuckles were angry, red and purple, even seemed painful. And now that his greased hair was pushed back against his head, a bruise on his left cheekbone was exposed.

"Hmm." The captain noted the bruising and nervous tie adjustment in his notepad and searched the room once more. "Where's the woman?" 

"She left almost as soon as you two left to investigate." 

"Shame, she seemed to have been the one who witnessed something." 

Viktor tapped the pen on the counter. "Are we done here? I should get back to this."

Gregory took note of the paper, a marriage insurance merger, though the name lines were blank. "I suppose."

The teller waved him on and continued his work.

_ Well that was suspicious _ . He thought as he returned to the alley. Suspicious or not, it felt nice finally having a witness near the murder, let alone two. Gregory was disappointed the woman had already left though, he really wanted to know what she saw.

His detective sat knelt beside the corpse, studying the hands and arms. 

"Well, did you find anything to help us?" the captain asked.

Tom looked up at him. "Just the usual things, bruised knuckles, a broken finger, signs of struggling."

He held up a finger. "The teller has bruising that indicates he was involved in a physical alteration." 

The detective lifted the dead man's shirt, showing discoloration on the abdomen. Along with more bruises and knots. 

"It appears, this man was assaulted by someone before She got her hands on him. Unless she fist fighter him before killing him. Which would be very uncharacteristic." his partner said.

He sighed. "Viktor won't talk any more, he seems certain She'll just appear to kill him if he does." 

"She probably would." 

The captain looked at the dead man, wondering what his story was and how he got here. But, the dead can't speak, and they'd probably never know the full story. They had to figure it out on their own, which is what Tom is for.

"Well, let's get him dealt with, I have photos and notes. Just have to add them to the collection," Tom said.

Gregory nodded and looked towards the bank. "We'll have to talk to the teller more later. He knows something."

**Author's Note:**

> I will be posting chapter 2 soon (hopefully). Stay tuned!


End file.
